Loss
by AriesTaurus
Summary: The pregnancy had surprised them both and it was hard to tell who'd been more shocked.


A/N: I draw this from my own experience. I've been through this twice. It destroys your heart and tears your soul.

* * *

The pregnancy had surprised them both and it was hard to tell who'd been more shocked.

Don was sure Charlie would know the statistics on condom failure and the probability of it ending in conception. Still, they'd decided the accident was a blessing, not a burden. A challenge, perhaps, an adventure, certainly but never a burden. Besides, the more he thought about it, the more he loved the idea of a child, his own child, of becoming a father.

They'd spent the entire drive up the coast making a list of names, laughing at the utter ridiculousness of some of their ideas, sobering with each name of a lost loved one, finally settling on one for each possibility.

He had never expected the look of complete and utter terror on Robin's face as she ran from the bathroom to him, clutching a wad of toilet paper.

"I'm bleeding."

He held her hand through the agonizing pain, held her as she cried, watched her sleep in drug-induced exhaustion, stood by her as their world was shattered.

He'd called in, telling David he was taking a couple of sick days. Two had turned into four and finally five. He just couldn't leave her alone, through the pain, the grief, the fear. He just kept going, functioning, his soul just numb.

This morning, she'd smiled, watery but sure, telling him to go, that she'd be okay, to go to work. He'd already called her twice.

He walked out of the elevator a bit late, feeling like a complete stranger, completely disconnected. David rose to his feet and greeted him, a smile on his face.

"Hey, Don. How are you feeling?" he asked.

He hadn't said anything as to why he was taking some time, had asked his father and brother not to say anything either, not yet.

Don simply shook his head, the numbness in his soul suddenly melting, his own grief suddenly real, raw and immediate. He sat heavily in his chair, unable to look into David's eyes. Tears suddenly burned in his own as he whispered, saying the words out loud for the very first time.

"Robin lost the baby."

He didn't know if there was a reply. He just knew there was a solid hand on his shoulder, a smaller hand on his, a broader on his other shoulder and another one on the back of his neck. When he'd finally been able to look up, he found them around him, sad smiles on their faces. He sniffed loudly and wiped his eyes with the heels of his palms.

"Let's get back to work, okay?" he said quietly, not ready to acknowledge anything more, still too raw, a lot more vulnerable than he liked to be. "David, why don't you fill me in?"

They all filed back to their desks, David staying behind.

"I'm so sorry, Don."

"So am I."

"Robin doing okay?"

He tossed his head, looking at his watch. "I don't know, really. She's been through a lot, physically so she's been sleeping a lot... She seems okay for a while and then... She was just eight weeks..." he said. "It's like... I mean, I knew she was pregnant, that the baby was real but..." He stayed silent for a few beats, thinking. David simply sat on his desk, waiting.

"I feel guilty that it doesn't affect me the same way that it does her... I mean... She's completely destroyed, David. And me? Pff... I don't know."

David nodded slowly and let his head fall, looking at the floor. "A few years ago, my sister lost a baby. She wasn't very far along, kinda like Robin. Screwed her up real good. She was so _sad_! I mean... When I finally had the nerve to ask her about it, she said it doesn't matter how small that baby was, or how far along she was. She lost a child, not just a pregnancy. Didn't matter he or she was too small to see or that she'd have another one eventually. She lost _that_ child and she mourned his death."

Don took a slow breath and nodded. "So where does that leave me?"

"We each grieve in our own way. There's no wrong or right way to go about it. Whatever you're feeling is okay. Maybe you're just focusing on the future better than she can right now."

"The future..." he trailed.

"I'm sorry. It's not my place--"

Don raised a hand. "No, no. It's okay. Somewhere inside, I knew I wanted children. And then, I hit forty, I wasn't married... I kind of wrote it off, in my head. And when Robin first told me, I was floored. But... the idea grew on me. And now? I really, really wanted that kid, you know? Now it's gone, just like that. And I don't know where I stand." He shook his head, staring at the floor. "A part of me wants that feeling back," he said after a few beats.

David stayed silent, waiting.

"We'd picked out a name."

"Yeah? For a boy or a girl?"

"Lea for a girl. Daniel for a boy."

The silence stretched and grew, broken only by ringing phones and the clatter of keys.

"So what have we got?" Don asked finally.

Fin.


End file.
